Pearl Birman , the butter wouldnt melt blue point

5am . My eyes hurting . I wake . Try to sleep . Read . Cant read . Eyes hurting .
6am . I open the bedroom door and the Guinea Pigs squeal hugely . Come down for eye drops and feed them lest they wake the household . The cats start their swarming .
6.30am . Seems pointless to return upstairs . I open the laptop.
Pearl starts her morning routine early . A flying leap onto the high mantelpiece . Lands and slides . Centres herself and stares into the mirror nonchalantly . Looks out into the room for D , who looks on her antics less fondly than we do , not wanting to waste her performance if he is not there to witness it . Ponders a while . He is clearly not there . Is it worth the effort of flicking off a few articles , just so he will see them out of place the minute he enters the sitting room ( left impeccably tidy late last night ?) Or is it better to hang fire till he is there to watch ? She gives a cursory flick with her paw and peers over the edge as the nail clippers fly off the edge , landing with a disproportionate crash on the old Victorian tiles . Hm , perhaps one more thing . A packet of strawberry and cream flavoured hard boiled sweets go flying . Thud . Hardly worth it . A card from William next door . She pushes it hard with an upward movement but it practically floats . A look of disdain . She edges towards a little bottle of expensive cuticle oil , stll boxed for added protection and gives it a slight push . Another glance at the door . No sign of him . The oil would certainly make him squeak , later , and she hesitates , pushes it back into place and lands with a thud of her own on the carpet .
7pm . D enters the room stage left , and heads straight for the fallen articles. Pearl grins from her parking space under the table .
Result!